


Black Tie Optional

by kedgeree



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Community: inceptiversary, Egregious Tuxedo, Fluff, Inception Bingo, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 21:55:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7378843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kedgeree/pseuds/kedgeree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur didn't miss him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Tie Optional

**Author's Note:**

> For Inception Trope Bingo 2016, "absence makes the heart grow fonder" square.

Arthur is _not_ cross because he's missed Eames.

Arthur is cross because his flight was delayed for a fucking hour on the runway. Arthur is cross because his left high resolution noise reducing earbud had stopped working right in the middle of _Ant-Man_. Arthur is cross because his in-flight dinner's salad greens had not been at all crispy.

Those are the reasons Arthur is cross, and not because he's missed Eames during this entire stupid job (because he hasn't). Not because Eames could easily have made the effort to come to New York, where Arthur had _generously_ offered to meet, because he was _considerately_ thinking of how Eames wanted to go to that exhibition at the Guggenheim (probably to steal something) and, fine, maybe Arthur would have gotten to see Eames a half day earlier if they'd met in New York, but _no_ , Arthur had to come all the way to Paris (and Arthur thinks he might be starting to hate Paris), because apparently Eames had not missed _him_ enough for a half a day to matter and so, yes, Arthur had been totally justified if his tone was _terse_ but it was _not_ the reason he was cross.

The salad on the flight was just really disappointing.

It's half past seven and dark outside by the time Arthur clears customs and makes it to the _point de rendez-vous_ , where Eames has at least deigned to collect him. It takes a moment for Arthur's eyes to adjust to the lower light as he scans the row of waiting cars for an appropriately Eamesian bulk of offensively-coordinated fabrics slouching against any of the dark sedan doors.

Then Arthur blinks. His eyes skip back two cars. And he nearly drops his Tom Ford weekender.

Bulk, yes. Broad-shouldered. Bearded.

But.

Tapered waist. Belted, buttoned, modern, _sleek_ as fuck stone-colored Burberry trench. Ink-black trousers. Ink-black gloves. Beard, neatly trimmed. Hair, _professional_ short cut, gelled and tousled. Perfect daisy-white shirt and a fucking ink-black _bow tie_.

Arthur's stomach does some kind of flippy thing, which is probably because of the salad. He stalks up to Eames, whose eyes light up when he sees Arthur, and frowns all the way up and down the _sleek_. "What is this?"

Eames makes one of his more sympathetic grunting sounds, and even though his expression is all soft and sensitive, his eyes still look like he finds Arthur so very amusing. "Rough flight?"

Well, it wouldn't have been if he'd stayed in New York where they could have been in bed by now and eaten fresh bagels in the morning with _decent_ non-French coffee and Eames's hair sticking out in all directions instead of flying to Paris to meet this…this smooth, polished-up Eames, who was clearly just _flaunting_ the sexy he'd withheld from Arthur for an entire half day longer than necessary.

Arthur trusts his scowl sufficiently conveys the intricacies of that sentiment.

"Still angry with me, then?" Eames smiles, not looking in the least chagrined, which is _beyond irritating._

"Why are you all fancy?" Arthur demands, glaring at Eames's bow tie. "Is there a job?"

"All for you, darling," Eames says, casually unbelting his trench, moving his fingers to the buttons. "Do you like it?"

Arthur's already sucking in a breath to say he _does not like any of this_ when Eames's coat falls open to reveal his tuxedo jacket. His eye-crossingly pink and blue and green and orange and red all-over paisley tuxedo jacket.

Eames's grin goes wide and silly and proud.

Arthur's breath rushes back out inside a bubble of startled laughter that bursts into words. "God, I missed you."

This time Arthur does drop his Tom Ford weekender, because he needs all his arms (why does he only have two?) and body and everything to throw himself onto Eames, who wraps Arthur up like he's slotting him right into his proper, snug, warm place.

"I missed you, too," Eames rumbles softly into Arthur's ear.

Arthur's eyes might squeeze shut. He might be smiling like an idiot into Eames's ridiculous, beautiful paisley shoulder. He might have missed Eames really, really a lot.

"I am sorry about New York, pet," Eames murmurs, as though Arthur might have made some sort of big deal about the whole thing and snapped at Eames and hung up on him like a completely cranky prick. "But it had to be Paris."

Arthur pulls back and tries not to sound petulant. "Why?"

"Because you love Paris." Eames looks like he's laughing again, because he always looks like that when he looks at Arthur, like Arthur _delights_ him for some reason. He also looks like, somewhere under that, he's not laughing at all, when he brushes one of his ink-black gloved hands over Arthur's hair. "And it had to be perfect, because," Eames's throat works once, and his voice goes gruff, "I have a bit of a special evening planned."

Arthur stops breathing for a moment as his spine turns to hot syrup.

"And be not afear'd, I do have a proper, Arthur-worthy tuxedo jacket along." Eames winks, leaning down to pick up Arthur's weekender. "Shall I just change, then, and we can be off?"

"No."

"What's wrong?" A flash of fear, uncertainty, like maybe Eames doesn't even _know_.

"You don't need to change." Arthur grabs Eames's arm urgently. "Never change."

Arthur loves Paris. And he thinks he might even love...paisley. And he loves the precious, rare times when Eames's smile turns shy. And his salad on the flight really wasn't that bad at all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you BakerStMel! <3
> 
> My [inspiration](https://68.media.tumblr.com/d7eaf2b744ea6763ba41678c8bf0cc61/tumblr_o9r8qwosrp1rf1blpo1_540.jpg).


End file.
